


Ashes

by Lynxofthenight



Series: RvB Angst War 2018 [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Claustrophobic descriptions, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-03 18:53:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14002410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynxofthenight/pseuds/Lynxofthenight
Summary: For the RvB Angst War: "Because I hate myself, shark dealing with night terrors after the building collapse."I kinda just went from there. And veered off into the ditch.





	Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> A bit on the short side but I worked with what I had. -shrug-

He doesn’t remember much of the building collapse or what happened after. He already had a concussion from taking a fucking gravity hammer to the face before having an entire fucking building landing on him, was it really that surprising that he wouldn’t remember much after that? No, not really.  
  
But what he did remember was the absolute worst.   
  
The crash of metal falling around him. Ominous creaking and groaning as more sections threatened to collapse. Heat, blistering heat far too hot to be a good day in the sun or a good workout with his flamethrower. The suffocating feeling of layers of rubble pressing down on his chest as only his armor keeps it from crushing him.   
  
The pain is there too. His entire body is screaming and so is he, screaming himself hoarse for a rescue that will never come. He can’t see out of his left eye and he doesn’t know if he wants to. There’s the slick feeling of his blood seeping into and from his undersuit and even that is hot like his entire body is burning despite no flames being near him. Others scream around him, those unlucky enough to be trapped as well. Or maybe it’s just him, echoing off the walls and echoing in his helmet as he wishes for something he can’t even name.  
  
And then the pain fades, and he fades into unconsciousness only to wake later and find himself still in hell. Any hope of rescue fades. His friends-, his team-, his  _family_ , have abandoned him. He doesn’t know how long he’s been there but he’s numb now. All he can feel is the pressure and the heat, the pain is gone. Has he already died and this is his punishment for some evil he committed in life?  
  
He thinks it is.  
  
And he relives it every night. It was okay when he was on his own but he fucked up and he’s in jail now.   
  
Some nights are alright. He just wakes up terrified and has to pace in the center of his cell and ignore any taunting thrown his way as he pushes the lingering feeling of pressure on his chest and overwhelming heat away.  
  
Other nights he wakes screaming and fighting. He’s put in solitary after the first time he punches the guard that comes to restrain him.   
  
He hears the whispers the few times he’s let out of his cell. They say he looks like hell, that he should be put out of his misery.   
  
He laughs.  
  
There’s nothing to be done when he’s been dead for years.


End file.
